


Fortune and Glory

by spurious



Category: Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Indiana Jones - Freeform, M/M, Minor Character Death, TORE, Treasure Hunting, community: je_otherworlds, the mummy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:11:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spurious/pseuds/spurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoko goes on a trip. TORE AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fortune and Glory

**Author's Note:**

> Written for buzzbird for je_otherworlds 2013 (and reposted extremely late lol).
> 
> Elements in this fic have been stolen from TORE and also somewhat from Indiana Jones and The Mummy. Please forgive my complete lack of knowledge about ancient Egyptian stuff, any information in this fic either comes from wiki or was completely made up to suit my needs. Many thanks to my beta/brainstorming partner ♥
> 
> ([original post](http://je-otherworlds.livejournal.com/42946.html))

Yoko can hear the bar before he even turns the corner it's on, the raucous sounds of the crowd spilling out into the street through the hastily propped-open door. As it comes into sight, he hears glass breaking and an uproar of laughter and shouting; as he stands in front of the door, patting his wallet to make sure it's secure, a large, drunk man stumbles out, blood steadily seeping from a wound on his arm—he seems unconcerned.

He spots the reason he's here within seconds of walking through the door. The man he's looking for is sitting right in the center of a crowd, his fingers curling around a shot glass as he stares down the man sitting opposite him. There's a veritable pile of discarded glasses on the table next to them, a nearly-empty bottle of liquor. Yoko watches money exchange hands amongst the spectators; he pushes closer so he can get a look at the opponent: just a glance between them confirms what Yoko already expected. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a few notes.

"Put this on Murakami," he says to the man who's taking bets.

"Who?" the man mumbles.

"Murakami," Yoko says again, louder and clearer. He gestures for emphasis. "That guy."

Yoko's calling his name seems to have caught Murakami's attention. He glances up, eyes sharp, and takes in Yoko's face before checking out the cash he's holding. He flashes a grin, showing off crooked teeth and fangs. His smile is charming, in a messy sort of way, and Yoko finds himself smiling back briefly before Murakami returns to the task at hand. He lifts the shot to his lips, throwing his head back. His throat gleams with sweat in the warm half-light of the bar, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. His opponent reaches for his own glass, but his depth perception must be gone, he misses it completely and then knocks it over, liquor spilling over the rough wood table and dripping down onto his lap. The glass rolls across the table as if in slow motion, and when the guy makes a clumsy grab for it, it rolls out of reach and onto the floor, shattering with a crash. It's only seconds later that Murakami's opponent follows the liquor and the glass, listing back and forth before spilling out of his seat and onto the floor.

Murakami breaks into a grin, and there's a commotion as people reach for their money, collecting on their bets or paying debts. Murakami picks up the bottle, standing up and making his way out of the crowd. Yoko pockets his winnings and tries to push his way out of the crowd; he accomplishes it much less smoothly than Murakami had, and he's feeling rumpled and a little anxious by the time he makes it out and over to the barstool next to Murakami's.

"I'd offer you a drink," Yoko says as he sits, "but it looks like you've got that covered." He gestures to the bottle planted on the counter in front of Murakami.

"If you knew what this swill tasted like you'd still be offering," Murakami says, tilting his head to give Yoko another once-over. "But first you can tell me what it is you want from me."

Yoko fiddles with his shirtsleeves. He'd tried to dress for the atmosphere, but he still feels like he looks really obviously out of place. Murakami fits in perfectly, his disheveled appearance right at home in the dive bar. He's got his sleeves rolled up haphazardly, baring tanned forearms with more than a few scars on them; the top few buttons on his shirt unbuttoned, enough that Yoko gets a glimpse of a shiny gold chain glinting against his clavicle when he moves.

"I think I'd like to hire you," Yoko says.

"You _think_?" Murakami repeats, eyebrows arching questioningly. "You can come back when you're sure."

Yoko purses his lips. "Before I hire you I'd like to make sure you're the man for the job."

"What's the job?" Murakami says. He's almost annoyingly blunt, when Yoko had been ready to have a meandering conversation, use coded language.

"There's an artifact I'd like retrieved." He doesn't want to reveal too much from the outset, but he's not sure if that's going to fly with Murakami.

Murakami rolls his eyes. "Listen," he says, "I don't have all night. Tell me what it is you want and how much it's worth to you, I'll tell you when you can expect me back with it."

"No," Yoko says, "you misunderstand, you'll be coming with me."

Murakami takes a dispassionate swig from the bottle, face screwing up a little before he swallows. "Babysitting's gonna cost you double."

"There's no way to get to it without my research," Yoko says. "And anyway, you haven't proved to me you're worth it yet." From everything Yoko's heard, Murakami is one of the only people who can get him where he wants to go, but he's still skeptical. The trip will be dangerous, sure, but he doesn't want to hire some random thug if he's not going to be worth it.

Murakami leans forward, tugs just the slightest bit on his collar. The gold chain Yoko had seen before slides across Murakami's skin, and Yoko's eyes follow the line of it down to something that makes his breath catch in his throat.

"That's…" Yoko starts, his hand reaching out almost instinctively to the gem hanging from the chain. It's a bright green stone, set in an ornate gold pendant. He's seen it in books before, but it's much more impressive in person.

"No touching," Murakami says, pulling his shirt back over the stone. "Yes it's the real one, yes I found it all by myself, no stuffy professors needed. Now close your mouth, you look undignified." His grin is smug, and if Yoko weren't so impressed he'd probably hate him.

"Okay," Yoko says, "so it looks like you're worth it."

"Now prove to me you're worth it," Murakami says, eyes flicking meaningfully to Yoko's pocket.

Yoko reaches in, flashes the wad of cash he'd brought with him in anticipation of this conversation. 

"And you'll get a cut of the profits when I sell it to the museum," Yoko says. "Plus anything insignificant we pick up on the way."

Murakami's lips twitch into a smile. "Looks like I'm in. What are you after?"

"I'm looking for the lost treasure of Narmer," Yoko says.

"Never heard of it," Murakami says dispassionately.

"Well," Yoko goes on, "most people don't believe it exists."

"So it's…very lost, then." Murakami's starting to look at Yoko like he's crazy. This is what he was worried about.

"I was skeptical at first too, but I was looking at some of the old texts and I realized that there was a translation error when they were first discovered. I've pretty much got a map straight to the treasure," he says. That last part is, admittedly a bit of an exaggeration.

"You've got a sketchy idea at best," Murakami says, then laughs at the change of expression on Yoko's face. "What, you think I'm that stupid?"

"Okay, I've got a sketchy idea of how to get to the treasure," Yoko admits, "but I really think I'm right about it."

"Isn't this the sort of thing you could just get whatever school you work for to send you on an exhibition to find?" Murakami says.

"Isn't that the sort of question you're paid not to ask?" Yoko retorts. Murakami's assumed he's a professor, and Yoko's alright with him continuing to assume that—he'd rather not delve into the exact reasons he isn't exactly on good terms with any institutions of higher learning.

"Fair point," Murakami says. He leans across the bar, grabbing an empty glass and filling it halfway before nudging it toward Yoko, still holding the bottle by the neck. "Let's drink on it."

Yoko picks up the glass and Murakami clinks the bottom of the bottle against the rim before tipping it back.

***

They'd agreed to meet a few days later, giving Yoko time to pack the things he thinks he'll need and sort out transportation to their first location. His suitcase is heavy, loaded down with books and notes: there'd barely been room to pack a few changes of clothes. He meets Murakami at the airport, where they board a plane to Israel.

"So, where to first?" Murakami asks once they're settled in. He seems just as comfortable on the plane as he had in the dive bar; Yoko wonders if he's just the kind of person who's comfortable anywhere he goes.

"Huh?" Yoko says. He grips his armrest, taking a breath and trying to concentrate as the plane begins to take off.

Murakami studies him for a moment. "You're afraid of flying, aren't you?"

"I'm not—" Yoko starts, but the plane jolts a bit and he feels like he's swallowed his tongue for a few seconds. "I've just never done it before."

"You'll get used to it," Murakami says. "We'll get a stiff drink in you once we're up, that'll help."

Yoko's not sure it will, with the way his stomach's already doing some impressive acrobatics with his insides.

***

By the time they land in Jerusalem, Yoko's resolve to never board another plane again has become pretty strong. Murakami knows someone who can get them a car, so they make their way through the crowded streets to his friend's home.

Murakami knocks sharply on the door, and within seconds it's thrown open, a pretty, dark-haired woman standing in front of them.

"Shingo!" She says, breaking into a huge grin and throwing her arms around him.

Yoko stands to the side, feeling awkward as he watches them embrace.

"Becky," Murakami says when they pull apart, "this is Yokoyama Yuu."

"Nice to meet you," she says, offering Yoko a hand. She's got a firm handshake, warm and confident.

Becky invites them in for a drink, and Yoko and Murakami settle themselves on a plush, worn sofa in her living room while she runs to the kitchen. There are artifacts from all around decorating the walls, a collection rivaling some small museums Yoko's been in.

"How do you two know each other?" Yoko asks. He wonders if they have some kind of… _history_ together. The way they hugged seemed awfully familiar.

"Same line of work." Murakami says vaguely. "Although Becky's more known for the puzzle-solving end of things."

"Are you talking about me?" Becky says, reentering the room. She sets down a pitcher of iced tea, pouring each of them a glass. The cold drink is just what Yoko needed in the desert heat.

"I'm just telling Yokoyama here about how we met," Murakami says.

"You mean the time you tried to steal that scarab from me?" Becky says, glancing at a sparkling gold scarab sitting in a display cabinet on the wall.

"It's not stealing when we both got there at the same time," Murakami says, rolling his eyes.

"Well, things ended in my favor anyway," she says, smiling, "in more ways than one, if I remember correctly."

" _Anyway_ ," Murakami says, "we need a car."

"Where are you headed?" Becky's manner shifts, becoming a bit more businesslike.

"Tel Arad," Yoko says.

If Becky has any idea what might be there, she doesn't let on, just nods. "It's a few hours drive from here; it'll take me a little while to get the car so you guys should probably just stay the night and leave in the morning."

"Sounds good," Murakami says, leaning back on the sofa and looking like he's already made himself at home.

"Can you point us to a hotel around here, then?" Yoko asks, not wanting to impose.

"Oh, there's no need," Becky says, "you can stay here. I've got a spare room."

Yoko gives some token protest, but Becky insists and soon they're all sitting down to dinner at a restaurant around the corner. It's a tiny place where everyone seems to know Becky, and about a third of them seem to know Murakami, as well. They have a delicious meal with a liberal amount of wine, Yoko mostly listening to Becky and Murakami's stories about the few jobs they've taken on together.

It turns out Becky's spare room has only one single bed, so they do rock, paper, scissors and Yoko ends up on the couch.

"I'm the one paying for everything," Yoko grumbles, "I should get the bed."

"We wouldn't have a bed to fight over if I hadn't brought us here," Murakami reminds him brightly before shutting the bedroom door.

Yoko turns on a lamp before he tries to sleep, looking over his notes for the next day. He's got a pretty good idea of where they'll need to look, but excavation isn't really an exact science, so there's still a lot of area they might need to cover. He hopes Murakami doesn't mind digging.

***

The next morning, Becky gives them a map with their route traced on it, heading south down the coast of the Dead Sea until they reach the city of Arad. Once there, they'll need to arrange transportation to Tel Arad: Becky gave Murakami the name of someone she says will help them out.

"He's a pain in the ass," she says, "but useful."

"Thanks," Murakami says. He pulls her into another long hug, then climbs into the driver's seat.

"Thank you for everything," Yoko says, shaking her hand.

Murakami turns the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life.

"You still haven't said what we're looking for there," Murakami says once they're out of the city and heading down the seaside. The landscape ahead of them is flat and brown, the air coming in salty through the open windows.

"Narmer's reign was the height of Egyptian presence in Canaan," Yoko explains. "Some artifacts bearing his serekh have been found in other areas, so we should be able to find something there."

"What are we looking for? Something with a map on it?"

"From what I've managed to figure out, what we're actually looking for will be statues of the Pharaoh himself. Each one of them will have a some piece of information that will lead us closer to Narmer's treasure."

"Statues, huh?" Murakami says. "Hope they're valuable."

"Oh, I'm sure they will be," Yoko says. He can imagine the look on the museum curator's face when he presents what he's found: just the thought of it makes excited pride stir in his stomach.

"Good," Murakami says, and when Yoko glances over he can see him smile slowly.

***

They arrive in Arad a few hours later, making their way to the address Becky had provided. It leads them to a small, ramshackle-looking house in a sketchy neighborhood, but the man who answers the door looks exceedingly clean cut. He has a light pink vest on over his shirt, his hair parted neatly, and he greets them pleasantly.

"Becky sent us," Murakami says. "She said you can help us get to Tel Arad."

"That I can," he says. "I'm Kasuga. Why don't you two come in for a moment?"

Inside the house, everything is clean and tidy but clearly extremely well-worn. The table that Kasuga directs them to sit at has four chairs that don't match one another, and the rug it's placed on is threadbare in more than a few places. He offers them tap water before sitting down at the table himself.

"I assume you gentlemen are traveling out there for purposes of an excavation?" he asks. There's a haughty quality to his voice that doesn't at all match the modest surroundings.

"Yeah, that's true," Yoko says. He doesn't particularly want to share all the details of their expedition with this stranger when he's barely shared them with his own partner.

"Well, you'll definitely require my services, then," Kasuga continues.

"We just need transportation and some tools," Murakami puts in. "Then we'll be on our way."

"Oh no no," Kasuga says, "that's not how I work."

***

"Becky wasn't kidding about this guy," Murakami mumbles to Yoko as they stand around, waiting for Kasuga to finish the preparations for the trip to Tel Arad. It's not a long journey, but there aren't any roads headed out to the site, so they'll go by camel, Kasuga accompanying them and staying for the dig.

"Tell me about it," Yoko says. They share a short laugh before it's time to mount their camels and start out toward the desert.

It seems Becky was true to her word when she said Kasuga is useful, though, because he has them at the old city in what seems like no time at all, easily navigating the mountainous ridges that surround the area.

"So," Murakami says as they dismount, "where do we start digging?"

Yoko wonders if this is the right time to mention he's never been on an archeological expedition before.

***

After a quick review of his maps and notes, with Murakami and Kasuga staring over his shoulders and offering "helpful" suggestions, Yoko thinks he's figured out the right place to start looking for the statue. It's an area of the old Canaanite settlement, somewhere there would likely have been storage for valuables.

The digging is rough work, and Yoko's exhausted and sweaty before they've even made much headway. He takes a break with the pretense that he needs to check his notes, standing under the shade of an umbrella and staring blankly at his book until he hears a shout from the area where they're digging. He puts his book down, rushing over to see what it is.

Murakami and Kasuga have discovered what looks like the mouth of a passageway. Yoko almost jumps up and down in his excitement, scrambling through their supplies for a lamp. They shine the light in first, and when it looks relatively safe they venture inside, Murakami first, followed by Yoko with Kasuga bringing up the rear. The passage is narrow, the cool underground air thick with dust and the stale smell of something that's gone untouched for so long. Yoko feels a chill running up his spine at the thought that they're the first people to be in here in probably hundreds—even thousands—of years.

Eventually, the passage opens up into a larger room, with three small doors in one wall and a large pedestal in the corner. Yoko holds the lamp over the pedestal, blowing the dust off and leaning in to read what's written on it. There are instructions carved around the rim of the surface: it's a puzzle, with pieces of the riddle behind each of the small doors. They try to open all three doors at once, but it seems they'll only slide open one at a time. They peer into the first open door: it looks like there's a small room there, barely large enough for one person.

"I'll go first," Murakami volunteers. He wriggles through the door, into the darkness of the small chamber. There's the sound of a match being struck, then a bit of light flickering out. "I don't see anything I can bring out, but there are levers in the wall," he yells.

"Is there anything written on the wall?" Yoko shouts back.

"Yeah," Murakami says a second later. "There are some hieroglyphs, I see the numbers one to three but I'm a bit rusty, I can't figure out the rest."

"Describe them to me," Yoko says.

"Uh, under number one there's a kind of squiggly snake going up and down, and then a boxy shape, and a half-circle with a bird flying next to it."

Yoko's opened his small notebook, scratching down his guess at what Murakami's seeing. Kasuga peers over his shoulder.

"It's 'to disappear,'" he says, confirming Yoko's guess.

"Anything under that?" Yoko asks.

"There's a scroll, and then…I think it's the one for soldiers?" Murakami says.

Murakami describes the rest of the hieroglyphs to them, and by the time he's done Yoko's got a page scratched over with transcription of what Murakami's seeing, and they've figured out that they need to pull the right lever in order to get the pieces of the puzzle. They've ruled out the first, but they're not quite sure if it's the first or the second.

"Hurry up and decide," Murakami shouts at them, "I'm getting uncomfortable in here."

"Well, which do you think it is?" Yoko says.

"Two," Murakami answers quickly.

"I really think it's three," Yoko says, tapping his pencil on the space next to the number three.

"Kasuga?" Murakami asks.

"It's definitely three," he says confidently.

"Alright," Murakami says, "three it is."

Yoko almost holds his breath as he waits, listening intently. Moments later, Murakami is shimmying out of the chamber, holding three tiles bearing hieroglyphs. He's dusty and disheveled, his shirt pulled askew and sticking to his torso with sweat, but he grins when he hands Yoko the tiles to place on the pedestal.

"I'll go in next," says Kasuga.

"What are the choices?" Yoko shouts, once Kasuga's crawled into the chamber.

"Don't worry," Kasuga yells back, "I don't need any help."

"Are you sure?" Yoko asks.

"Definitely! I'm picking number two!"

There's a loud rumbling, groaning sound of ancient rocks rubbing against each other, then a scream, and then the rumbling sound again. Yoko grabs their lamp, holding it up to the opening and seeing no sign that Kasuga had even been there: the only clue to his whereabouts is the line in the floor where the two slabs of stone line up with each other.

"Shit," Murakami says.

Yoko swallows hard. One of them still needs to go in there, and Yoko's pretty sure neither of them is keen to volunteer.

"Well," Murakami says after a moment, "it's your turn."

"I—" Yoko says, casting a panicked look into the chamber.

"This is why I hate babysitting," Murakami grumbles. "Look, what we're doing? It's not safe. There are a million different ways to get killed every step of the way. I hoped you knew that already, but since it seems to be new information for you at this point, I'm going to suggest that you think really hard about whether or not you're ready to do this or if you wanna just pay me and head back home."

Murakami's tone is cuttingly matter-of-fact, and Yoko flushes at being talked down to like that.

"I'm ready," he says, crawling into the dark chamber. He's not sure, but he thinks he hears Murakami saying "works every time" as he slides in.

Yoko looks at the hieroglyphs on the wall, studying them carefully but also quickly: he doesn't want to spend more time in this tiny space than he has to. When he looks at what's written for number two he realizes Kasuga's mistake: he'd probably read one of them phonetically instead of for its meaning. It's an easy enough mistake to make, which makes Yoko all the more terrified as he tries to choose between one and three. He shouts all the information out at Murakami, getting his input before finally pulling down the first lever, his breath caught in his throat. There's no horrible groaning rock sound, and soon a small compartment opens up, revealing three more tiles with hieroglyphs on them. Yoko crawls out, tiles in hand, and Murakami gives him a good-natured slap on the back, grinning.

"See?" he says. "It's not so bad."

They do rock, paper, scissors to decide who will go into the third chamber: Yoko loses, cursing his luck as he crawls into the final chamber. The riddle in this one is the easiest of the three, and he's out in what feels like no time at all. He places the three final tiles on the pedestal and suddenly the surface is sinking, forming three straight lines with a hollow spot in the middle where the tiles fit.

"We must have to enter the right compound," Yoko says, half to himself. He's staring intently at the tiles, mind racing with the combinations they could make.

"You'd, uh, better hurry on that," Murakami says. 

Yoko looks up, annoyed that Murakami had interrupted him, and sees that the walls are closing in on them, and not terribly slowly, either. His mind goes briefly blank with terror before he turns back to the tiles, rearranging them and forcing them frantically into the spaces on the pedestal. The first few compounds he tries don't make the walls stop, and Yoko starts to panic. From the other side of the pedestal, Murakami reaches over and rearranges three of the tiles, making a compound Yoko hadn't even thought of.

"You're a genius!" he shouts, the other two compounds easily clicking into place in his mind. He arranges them, then looks up, watching the walls come to a stop, and lets out the breath he'd been holding.

Murakami looks down at the pedestal. "I have no idea what those other two even mean," he says, shrugging.

The walls slowly recede, and a small door opens up in the pedestal, revealing a small statue. Yoko lifts it out, feeling the heft of it in his hands. It has all the markings he'd been expecting, and when he checks the bottom of it there's a series of hieroglyphs, spelling out one of the clues to the treasure. Yoko actually does jump up and down with excitement this time, clutching the statue tightly.

"We found it!" He says, feeling almost giddy.

"Yeah, yeah, good job us," Murakami says, rolling his eyes with a half-smile. "Now come on, let's get out of here."

They make their way out through the passage to find it's getting dark outside. There's a chill starting in the air, the breeze making Yoko shiver a bit. It seems like a bad idea to head back to the city in the dark, considering the precarious terrain they'd had to cross getting here, so they pitch a tent and make a fire, setting up camp just a bit away from where they'd been digging. Murakami had packed some food, and he shares it with Yoko, offering him a few sips from his flask as well.

"So," Yoko asks, feeling warm and still a little high on the discovery earlier, "how'd you get into this kind of work?"

Murakami shrugs. "It's interesting, and it pays well. I used to do recovery, this isn't a big step from there." 

Yoko hums. "So you like it?"

"Yeah," Murakami says, giving him a sidelong glance. "Why do you ask?"

"I dunno," Yoko says. "I spend a lot of time with books, this is just…really different."

"Yeah, well," Murakami says, "what's the saying? 'Those who can't do, teach?'"

Yoko flushes. "I'm not a teacher," he says.

"Hm," Murakami says, "I'd really pegged you for a professor."

"Well," Yoko says, "I'm not."

There's a short silence between them, broken up by the crackling of the fire in front of them. Yoko's expecting Murakami to press him about what it is he actually does, but it seems he's sticking to his earlier promise of not asking too many questions.

"Does the statue say where we're going next?" Murakami asks, gesturing with his flask to where the statue is sitting in the sand next to Yoko.

"No," Yoko says, "the stuff on the bottom has to do with the final location of the treasure. From what I've been able to figure out, though, we've got two more pieces to find. One of them's not that far from here, in Ein Besor. I thought we could head that way tomorrow and see what we find. From there, I'm pretty sure the next statue we're looking for will be in Egypt."

"Sounds alright to me," Murakami says. "We should get to sleep, then."

They snuff out the fire and crawl into the small, cramped tent to sleep.

***

The journey back to Arad takes longer than the trip out had taken, but they make it back in one piece, which Yoko decides to count as a win. They load their supplies back into the car, and Yoko spreads out the map Becky had given them, piecing together the route they'll need to take to Ein Besor.

The drive takes about two hours, and they end up in a tiny outpost town. They ask around among the locals about the route to the ruins, and eventually they're directed to a small restaurant.

"I can tell you how to get there," the man they meet says, "but it'll cost you."

Yoko's ready to make a deal; he'd extra cash with the idea that he might need to bribe someone for services. He's reaching for his wallet when he notices Murakami reaching for something as well: he draws a gun.

"Or you can just tell us out of the goodness of your heart," Murakami says, voice low and controlled.

Yoko's heart races; he didn't even know Murakami had brought a gun with him. He hopes the man across the table isn't armed as well.

Luckily, he's not, and he hands over a map, along with some supplies. There's a path leading out to it, and it's flat enough terrain that they can just drive there.

"Why did you do that?" Yoko asks on the way out of the restaurant.

"I don't have much patience for long negotiations," Murakami says flippantly.

"What if he'd shot you?" Yoko says. "And anyway, I could've paid him, there's no need to be so crude."

"Whatever," Murakami says. He obviously doesn't care much about Yoko's opinion of him, doesn't even seem the slightest bit offended.

They have about half the day to dig once they get to the site, and Yoko pores over the map he's traced into his notes, looking for the place that will be most likely to hold the pharaoh's statue. They dig for a while in the spot he chose, eventually finding a passageway. It looks quite similar to the first one, and Yoko wonders if it'll lead them to the same kind of chamber as they'd found in Tel Arad. He knew finding the statues wouldn't be easy, but there's a part of him that's still reeling from the intensity of the first day.

This passage takes a sharp downward slope, eventually leading them to a large room with a high ceiling. They stand in the doorway for a moment, surveying the room. There's not much decor in the room, just a single small door opposite the entrance. There are four long, low blocks on the floor, two each against the left and right walls, which are covered with a patchwork of vines. Nothing seems amiss, but when they step into the room, the floor starts to tilt, as if their weight is pushing it down.

"Get on the platform!" Murakami shouts, grabbing Yoko by the wrist and yanking him over to the platform. It's a tiny space, and they're pressed tight together. The floor slows its movement a bit once it's angled enough that it feels more like they're standing against a wall than lying on a floor. When Yoko looks down, he sees an expanse of black and feels his stomach turn.

"We've got to get up to the top," Murakami says. Yoko looks up: the platform directly above them is way too far for the two of them to reach. The platform on the opposite wall is lower, but the space between them and it seems insurmountable.

"How?" Yoko asks. His heart is racing. With each moment the floor's dipping just a little bit more.

"Climb on my shoulders," Murakami says. "It'll get you closer to the next platform. Then I can jump across."

"I—" Yoko starts.

"You have a better idea?" Murakami asks. "The longer we wait, the harder it's going to be. Now climb up."

Murakami bends as best he can, and Yoko clambers up onto his shoulders, limbs feeling unwieldy and awkward. Even standing on Murakami's shoulders, the platform seems far.

"You can do it," Murakami says. "Just jump as far as you can, and reach out. You can grab on and pull yourself up."

Yoko takes a deep breath, repeating Murakami's words in his head. He bends his legs and launches himself across the floor, arms flailing madly until he feels his fingers connect with the platform. He pulls himself up, arms shaking with the effort, and finally he's standing on the platform, heart racing.

"Okay," Murakami says, "now you hold the vine next to you and reach out your hand. I'm gonna jump up there."

Considering Yoko barely made it jumping from Murakami's shoulders, he's not sure how Murakami plans to just jump from the platform, but he figures that kind of question isn't the most helpful response, so he twists one of the vines around his fist and reaches out as far as he can, hoping for the best.

Murakami launches himself upward, looking for a second like he's almost walking up the wall, and then he grabs Yoko's hand, his grip firm. Yoko pulls himself back toward the wall with the vine, and Murakami's once again pressed up against him.

"Jesus," Yoko breathes, impressed. "I really didn't think you'd be able to make it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Murakami says wryly. "Now get on my shoulders."

Yoko climbs up again, his sweaty palms slipping against Murakami's back before he can find his grip and climb up. He wipes his hands on his trousers, readying himself to jump again. The wall's angle has gotten steeper since his first jump, but he knows if he waits it'll just get worse, so he swallows hard before launching himself at the platform.

It's a closer call this time, but he makes it up, hands shaking, and grabs onto the vine, holding his hand out for Murakami again. Murakami makes the second jump look just as easy as the first, but when he's shoved close to Yoko's body, he can feel how his heart is racing, too.

Now that they're closer to the final platform, Yoko can see that there's a compartment in the floor. He climbs onto Murakami's shoulders one last time, jumping with all his might. His right hand grazes the platform, and he starts to slide down. Frantic, he flails his arms upward with a shout: his left hand gets a grip on the very edge. He pulls himself up, feeling like his heart is going to pound out of his chest.

"Nice save," Murakami says. He makes it onto the platform as well, and they open the compartment. Inside is a key, but Yoko has no idea what it's supposed to unlock. The floor is getting closer and closer to a 90 degree angle, and Yoko's not sure it'll even stop there. He tries to look around but feels dizzy, clinging tightly to the vines on the wall.

"It's down there," Murakami says. "There's a hole in the wall by the second platform. We didn't see it before because the wall hadn't dropped enough."

"Are you sure?" Yoko asks.

"It's the only thing I can see that looks different," Murakami says. "You stay here."

"I'll try," Yoko says, with a frightened laugh.

Murakami drops down below the platform, and Yoko watches as he slides down to the one below them.

"There's a keyhole!" he shouts up.

Moments later, the motion of the floor stops, and then it's changing direction, dropping back into its normal floor position. Yoko stands up, feeling shaky. He steps to the door and opens it, and on the other side is another pharaoh statue. He grabs the statue, holding it up triumphantly for Murakami to see.

"Come on," he says, "let's get out of here before the floor starts moving again."

"Sounds like a plan," Murakami says.

Once they're out of the tunnel, Yoko feels relief washing over him, the ebbing of the adrenaline that had been flooding his system leaving him drained but happy.

"I really thought I was going to fall," he says, sitting down heavily on the sand. "I—I can't believe I'm still alive."

"I wasn't sure you'd make it either," Murakami says, breaking into a laugh when Yoko looks up at him, affronted. "See, how does it feel?"

Yoko laughs, remembering the effortless way Murakami had made the jumps, the confidence he had in talking Yoko through it. Yoko should probably thank him.

"Now, let's clean up and find somewhere to stay, I don't wanna sleep in a tent again if we don't have to." Murakami offers Yoko a hand, pulling him up easily from the ground—Yoko thinks of Murakami dragging him onto the platform, of Murakami grabbing onto his hand when he jumped from one to the other. His grip is firm, his hand warm and dry against Yoko's.

There's a guest house in the village with only one room open, so they have to share. Even so, it's nice to be able to bathe, to wash what feels like weeks of grime off of his body. The bed is big enough that neither one of them has to sleep on the floor, and Yoko's thankful because he can't seem to beat Murakami at rock, paper, scissors. He settles in and falls asleep easily.

***

Yoko wakes up the next morning to Murakami banging around the room, getting ready. He rolls over and sees him standing in the bathroom in boxers and an undershirt, shaving. Yoko watches blearily as Murakami drags the straight razor up his neck, chin tilted up and back and eyes hooded as he looks into the mirror. Half-awake, Yoko just watches until Murakami notices him and turns around, face still half-lathered with shaving cream, and gives him a look.

"What are you looking at?" he asks.

"Nothing," Yoko says quickly. "Just, uh. I was just waking up."

"Okay," Murakami says, turning back to the mirror. Yoko rolls over, digging his nails into his palm to distract himself from the awkwardness suddenly curling in his stomach.

***

Their next location is in Egypt, and since the easiest way to get there is to fly, they have to take back the car, so they return to Jerusalem. They drive through the morning, and they're at Becky's door around lunchtime. 

"Welcome back," she says, ushering them into her living room. "I hope the trip was productive."

"Very," Murakami says. 

"Was Kasuga helpful?" she asks.

"He…well. He didn't make it," Murakami says.

Becky's quiet for a moment, her face turning serious. "He was too stubborn for his own good, right?"

Murakami nods, placing a hand on Becky's shoulder. "He helped us out, though. Really."

They go back to Becky's local restaurant for lunch, raising a glass to Kasuga. Her mood seems to brighten, and she tells them a few stories of the times they'd worked together. Near the end of the meal, she asks them what their next step is.

"We're headed to Egypt," Murakami tells her.

"Oh," Becky says, "Egypt! I haven't been to Egypt in months."

"Well," Murakami says, "I think we're gonna keep this to a two-man operation, if you don't mind."

Becky pouts exaggeratedly, arms crossed. "Fine," she says, laughing. "I've got things I'm working on here, anyway."

After lunch, they arrange the trip to Egypt. They'll fly to Cairo, and from there they'll take a small plane down to Nekhen. Yoko's notes suggest the temple there should be there next stop.

***

"I'd really hoped we could just drive," Yoko says as they board the plane. He remembers the flight to Jerusalem, his stomach turning in anticipation.

"Oh, don't be a baby," Murakami says.

The flight to Cairo isn't actually too bad: it's relatively short and smooth, all things considered. Yoko really starts to panic, though, when they reach the hangar where they'll board their plane to Nekhen. It turns out to be a tiny, two-passenger plane, that Murakami is going to fly.

"You _can_ fly, right?" Yoko asks, glancing nervously from Murakami to the aircraft.

"Yeah," Murakami says easily. "It's just like driving a car in the sky, no problem."

That statement doesn't exactly fill Yoko with confidence, but he climbs into the plane anyway, strapping himself in and hoping for the best. He hasn't gone wrong trusting Murakami so far, he figures.

The flight lasts a few hours, and while it's definitely bumpier than the ride to Cairo had been, Yoko only fears for his life once or twice—that is, until Murakami announces they'll be landing shortly.

"I don't see an airport," Yoko shouts over the noise of the engines.

"There isn't one," Murakami yells back.

" _What?_ " Yoko says, hoping he'd misheard.

"There's no airport," Murakami repeats. "There's plenty of space, though, it's probably fine!"

" _Probably?_ " Yoko echoes.

"I forgot to mention I'm not that great at landing," Murakami shouts.

The plane dips toward the ground and Yoko tries to keep himself from screaming as they pull in for a very bumpy landing. Yoko climbs out as quickly as he can, promising himself he'll never get in another plane piloted by Murakami again.

"No problem, you said! Like driving a car, you said!" Yoko rants as he unloads his bags.

Murakami just smiles. "Hey, we made it, didn't we?"

"Oh, shut up," Yoko grumbles.

***

The ruins at Nekhen had been excavated somewhat recently, so they don't have to do much digging before they reach the area of the temple Yoko's got marked down on the hand-drawn map in his notebook. They go below ground, down a winding staircase, and find themselves at one end of a long corridor with a large, ornately decorated door at the other end. On their side of the hall is a short block, about knee-height.

Murakami starts to step around the box, but Yoko grabs his hand, pulling him back.

"I've read about these things," Yoko says. "It's a puzzle box. We have to figure out the right way to open it, and there'll be a key inside."

Murakami crouches down in front of the box, running a hand over its surface. "It doesn't feel like it should open at all."

"There's a very specific sequence," Yoko explains. "I should have it in my notes here…"

Yoko finds the pages he'd written about the puzzle boxes, skimming through them to see if he wrote down how they're opened. He has the first steps down, but the last step is just labelled "a test of concentration." He figures they can cross that bridge when they come to it. The first few steps involve finding key pressure points on the surface of the box, each indicated with a different set of hieroglyphs. Yoko examines the box carefully, finding each one of the points and pressing them in sequence. He leans back, watching as the box slowly opens up. What it reveals is a smaller box with a hole cut in the top, just big enough to look through, and two handles sticking out of it.

"What is that?" Murakami asks, peering through the hole.

"A test of concentration," Yoko says.

"Well that's vague," Murakami says, sitting back.

Yoko leans in to look through the hole. There's a source of light coming from somewhere inside it, and he can see two rods, which must be attached to the two handles, and a hole below them. As he's staring in, a ball rolls out and onto the two rods. He grabs the handles, opening the rods slowly and watching how it allows the ball to roll toward him. There's a bump in the rods that he has to get the ball to roll over, and in his attempt he opens them too far and the ball falls to the ground. He curses, hoping there'll be another chance.

"What are you doing?" Murakami asks.

"Shh," Yoko hisses, "I've gotta concentrate."

A second ball rolls out, and Yoko takes a deep breath, manipulating the two rods as best he can. This is the kind of game he likes, and he manages to direct the second ball into the hole. He leans back, watching as a compartment opens on the side of the box, revealing a key. Murakami picks up the key, grinning, as Yoko closes his notebook and puts it back in his pocket.

"Let's go," Murakami says.

As soon as they step past the box, there's a scraping sound of stone against stone, and Yoko looks to either side of them. The walls are closing in, fast.

"Run!" he shouts, taking off as fast as he can down the hallway. The walls are getting closer and closer, and Yoko's almost certain he won't make it: Murakami's ahead of him, makes it to the door in time to turn around and look at Yoko.

"Jump," Murakami yells. "You can make it!"

With the last few feet left and not much space between him and the walls, Yoko launches himself forward, clearing the space just as the two walls slam shut. He lands on his feet, but his momentum knocks him over and he falls right into Murakami, shoving him back against the door.

"Sorry," Yoko mumbles, flushing and brushing himself off when Murakami pushes him off.

The door leads to a small room with a staircase leading up and a pedestal in the center with a pharaoh statue on it. Yoko grabs the statue, turning it over to look at the writing on the bottom. If it's what he expected, they've got their last statue and can go for the treasure now. He skims over the writing, mouth spreading into a grin as he does.

"This is it," he says, turning to Murakami. "This is the last one."

***

Yoko flatly refuses to let Murakami fly them anywhere ever again, so in order to get to their last stop, they board a boat traveling up the Nile. Yoko shells out the money to get them a cabin and some lunch: the journey's not too long, but he'd like the chance to relax a bit. They sit at the table, drinking tea and looking out the window at the Nile passing by.

"Once we get to Abydos," Yoko says, "I think we're looking for the necropolis at Umm el-Qa'ab, where Narmer was buried. From what I can tell, it seems like the statues themselves might be keys to get us to the chamber where the treasure is held."

"Sounds good," Murakami says.

"I can't believe we're so close to it," Yoko says. It seems like time has gone by so fast.

"You were well-prepared," Murakami says, tone matter-of-fact, like he's not just randomly complimented Yoko.

"I'd be dead if it weren't for you," Yoko says quickly, the phantom shiver of Murakami pulling him to safety tingling through him again.

"Yeah you would," Murakami says with a cocky smile. "I bet you'll be excited to go back to…whatever it is you do."

"I'm a librarian," Yoko admits. "Well, sort of, I mean, I work in a library but I'm not certified in anything. I just like books."

"You didn't go to school for any of this stuff?" Murakami asks, eyebrows raised.

Yoko shrugs. "Nah, I could never afford it, and my grades weren't that good, anyway."

"You sure had me fooled," Murakami says. Yoko wonders if it's just his own wishful thinking that Murakami sounds impressed.

"I've got a lot of free time," Yoko says, by way of explanation. "I spend a lot of it with the books."

Murakami hums, taking a sip of tea.

"How did you learn hieroglyphics?" Yoko asks. "You don't seem like the school type."

Murakami laughs. "No, I'm not. I just picked a bit of it up, I guess. When you travel like I do you learn a little bit of everything."

Yoko can't imagine being able to just pick up languages like that; his mind doesn't work that way. He doesn't really understand a lot of how Murakami operates, to be honest, but he certainly can get things done.

"Hey," Yoko asks, after a few minutes of silence stretches between them, "what's up with you and Becky?"

"What do you mean?" Murakami asks.

"You know…" Yoko says, raising his eyebrows. "Is there something…between you two?"

Murakami chuckles. "What are you, an elementary schooler?"

Yoko blushes, looking down at his hands. "I was just curious," he mumbles.

"We dated for a while," Murakami says, "but it's hard to stay together when you're both traveling all the time."

"Why didn't you team up?" Yoko asks. "You guys seem to get along well enough."

"We did a few times," Murakami says, "but we both like working alone."

"Ahh," Yoko says. He's out of tea, but he swirls the dregs around in his cup. He's really found himself enjoying working together with Murakami like this, and he'd kind of been hoping Murakami was enjoying it too.

"What do you want to do with the money?" Murakami asks, after a beat. "This is gonna be a huge find."

"I haven't really thought about it," Yoko says. In truth, the money isn't so much what matters to him. He wants the prestige, the chance to prove himself. "I guess I'll rub it in my boss's face."

Murakami bursts out laughing, slapping the table and making the dishes clatter.

"You're funny, you know that?" he says, eyes still crinkled with amusement.

"I guess," Yoko says. His stomach does a little flip but he doesn't really know why.

***

Umm el-Qa'ab is a short journey outside the city, a complex of tombs buried under desert sands. They've been carefully excavated previously, and Yoko had copied down the location of Narmer's tomb into his notebook.

"There are two chambers," he says, pointing to his notes, "B17 and B18."

They follow Yoko's notes, making their way to the tomb. The chambers are smaller than what Yoko expected, scarcely fancier than modern graves.

"Are you sure this is it?" Murakami says, sounding as unimpressed as Yoko feels.

"The previous excavation probably cleaned out everything that was left in here," Yoko says. "Anyway, we're not interested in what would've been in the tomb, we're looking for what's under it."

Yoko's reading of the clues on the statues had suggested that there's a network of catacombs under the tombs themselves, in which Narmer had hidden his treasures before his death.

They each take one chamber, starting to dig. Yoko's arms are sore before they even start, unused to the physical activity, but he presses on, thinking of how close they are to finding the treasure.

It turns out that the entrance to the catacombs lies almost between the two chambers, and by the time they find it Yoko feels drained. He sets down his shovel, sitting at the entrance and catching his breath. Murakami hands him a canteen and Yoko drinks greedily, draining it of at least half the water before he hands it back. He watches Murakami drink the rest, silhouetted in the late afternoon sun. His skin is tan and shiny with sweat, the shadow of a beard spread over his chin and jaw. He's stripped off his button-down shirt in the heat, now wearing just a thin, clingy undershirt. Yoko looks down, staring at his scuffed boots until Murakami asks him if he's ready to go.

"I'm pretty sure these catacombs connect to a natural complex of underground caves," Yoko explains as they make their way down the dark, narrow hallway. There's a skittering sound ahead of them and Murakami comes to a dead stop.

"What was that?" he says, voice sounding nervous in a way Yoko's never heard it.

"Probably just a beetle or something," Yoko says flippantly.

"A beetle?" Murakami says, pitch of his voice rising just a bit. "I hate bugs."

"You…what?" Yoko says, incredulous.

"I hate them!" Murakami repeats. "They're just—" he shudders visibly, then hands the torch to Yoko. "You go first."

"Alright," Yoko says, rolling his eyes. He can't believe someone as brave as Murakami is this afraid of _bugs_ , but he supposes everyone has their thing.

The corridor eventually opens up into a small room with a door at one end. There's a line of what look like wheels with hieroglyphs on them across the door, and an indented space that's about the size of one of their pharaoh statues.

"I thought we'd get to keep these," Murakami says, disappointed, as Yoko tries to fit the statue into the space.

It's just a bit too short to accommodate the base, so Yoko takes another look at what's written on it. The first part was just a section of the clue that lead them to Narmer's tomb, but the second part hadn't made sense to Yoko until just now.

"We have to put in the answer to the riddle," he says, "and then it'll fit."

He tests the wheels on the door: only two of the five move, and they move together, showing the same characters. He rolls through the options, but a few of them seem like they'd work, so he checks the riddle again.

"It's supposed to be…the name of an animal?" he says, turning back to the wheels and spinning them again. After a minute, he lands on the combination he thinks is right, and he tries to press the statue into place. The bottom of the hollowed-out area gives easily, allowing Yoko to push the statue in. The door swings open, revealing another narrow hallway.

The second room they come to is the same as the first, a door with spinning wheels and a riddle to answer from the bottom of the statue. The third statue didn't have a riddle on the bottom, though, so Yoko suspects that the third room will have a different sort of challenge. The corridor leading to it is longer, and with every step Yoko can feel nervousness and excitement churning together in his stomach. The first two halls had sloped downward, but this one feels like it's leading them back up toward the surface. Yoko can see an opening ahead, but the light from their lamp doesn't really illuminate it much.

"This should be the last room," he says to Murakami, and then steps through the threshold.

It turns out the lamp didn't illuminate much because there's not a whole lot to see. They find themselves standing on a small platform on one side of a huge cave. There's another platform on the other side with an opening in the wall and a box that has a place carved out for their third statue. Between them and the box is a long, impossibly narrow walkway right up against the wall. Yoko looks down, his head reeling at the expanse of black he sees below him.

"Here we go," Murakami says.

Yoko swallows hard. "Here we go."

They make their way slowly onto the walkway, bodies pressed close to the rock wall. It seems smooth at first, but as they move down it, Yoko can feel parts of it start to shift, to slowly poke out seemingly at random.

"It's moving," he says, voice tight.

"Yeah," Murakami says. "Watch your step."

They slow down a bit, trying to keep a grip on the wall as it tries to throw them off. They're making alright headway until they reach a spot where the rock's completely pushed out, making a wall that goes higher than Yoko's head.

"We can't get any farther," Yoko says, feeling discouraged and panicky. "We're not going to make it, we're going to die here."

"No," Murakami says. "Calm down, we can do this. I can climb over it. You just hold on, it's not far."

"Hold on?" Yoko squeaks. There's a chunk of rock beginning to poke out where his right foot is and he readjusts, fingers scrabbling against the blocks above his head.

"You're gonna be fine," Murakami says, in this confident way that makes Yoko almost believe him. It's the closest he's got to an assurance of safety so he clings to it, letting Murakami's confidence become his own.

He watches Murakami climb the wall, gripping the rocks and pulling himself up, the muscles in his arms bulging with the movement. He grunts, launching himself around the solid wall of rock, and then he disappears from Yoko's view.

"It's close," Murakami says, voice thin with exertion, "I'll get to it soon."

Yoko bites the inside of his cheek. He wants to ask Murakami to keep talking, but he knows it's more important for him to concentrate than to reassure Yoko, at this point. Instead he listens to the echo of each sound, their heavy breaths and the scraping of boots against rock magnified by the open abyss of the cave. The part of the wall he's clinging to is still pushing slowly out, and he's contorted himself into almost an S-shape, his legs and bent and his body doubled over.

He hears a thumping sound, and then Murakami's voice echoes loud and clear: "I'm through. I'm gonna put it in."

Yoko holds his breath. What if putting the statue in doesn't stop the wall? He's not sure how much longer he can hold himself here, and there's no way he could climb over it the way Murakami had. Time seems to stop, and then suddenly the blocks are receding back into the wall. Caught off-balance, Yoko almost tips over as he tries to get back into a standing position, hands scrabbling frantically on the wall before he gets his bearings.

"Come on," Murakami calls, and Yoko though inches his way across the platform as quickly as he can, it still feels like forever before he's standing on the solid platform.

He drops down to his knees, panting, and presses his hands to the ground, just feeling it beneath his palms.

"We got it," Murakami says, sounding giddy. He tugs at Yoko's arm, pulling him up to stand in front of the now-open box. "Look at this stuff! It's gotta be worth a fortune."

In the box is an impressive and shiny array of artifacts, a treasure trove of things Yoko's sure most museums would kill to have on display. He breaks into a grin, grabbing excitedly at Murakami's forearm.

"We got it!" he echoes. "We actually got it!"

"This is one of the best finds I've ever had," Murakami says as they put everything into their bags. "We're gonna be swimming in cash."

"You really are obsessed with money, huh?" Yoko says, laughing.

"So what if I am?" Murakami says, unashamed. "If you're not in it for the money, I don't know what the appeal is."

"I guess…fortune and glory?" Yoko says.

Murakami bursts out laughing. "What are you, a character in a movie?" he says, smacking Yoko on the back of the head.

Yoko rubs the back of his head, unable to help laughing himself. "I guess that does sound kind of cheesy, huh."

The door on the platform leads to a passage that takes them up to the ground level, leaving them on the side of a rocky ridge of mountains. When they walk away from the opening, it blends easily into the landscape, invisible to the eye unless you know where to look for it.

They board a boat heading up the Nile back to Cairo, where they'll catch a flight back home. It's an overnight trip. After they have dinner, toasting their find with a bottle of expensive champagne, Yoko sits in their cabin, looking over the collection of artifacts. His mind spins with the excitement and satisfaction of the find as he goes over each piece, cradling them lovingly in his hands.

"I could get used to this," he says, half to himself.

"Nothing better," Murakami murmurs.

The champagne's gone to Yoko's head a bit, making him feel brave—it's the only explanation he can think of for what he says next.

"I know you said you like to work alone," he starts, heart thumping in his chest, "but, um, would you ever…do this again?"

Murakami's quiet for a minute. "I—" he starts, but Yoko interrupts.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly, "it was stupid of me to ask. I'm sure you're tired of me by now."

Murakami clears his throat. "I was going to say that I'd like to, but if you're gonna be so goddamn negative I might change my mind."

"What?" Yoko says, caught off-guard by the response.

"I'd like to do this again, you idiot," Murakami says. "Seriously though, you ask me again and I'm taking it back."

Yoko grins, standing up and putting his hands on Murakami's shoulders. "Great!" he says. Then, "I won't ask again, I swear."

"Good," Murakami says. "If we keep this up I can make a lot more money with you than I was on my own."

Yoko rolls his eyes. "Don't be so crass about it."

"Whatever," Murakami says, laughing easily.

The boat rocks, and Yoko tightens his grip on Murakami's shoulders, holding on for balance, then drops his hands quickly, sitting down. Murakami gives him a look that Yoko can't read at all, a sidelong glance that makes his stomach knot itself up a little, before sitting down himself.

There's a short silence, Yoko staring studiously down at the artifacts on the table, and he can feel Murakami's eyes on him, making his skin tingle.

"Stop me if I'm misreading this," Murakami says, and then he's got one hand on Yoko's thigh and he's leaning in, pressing his lips to Yoko's slow but sure. Yoko makes an involuntary sound in his throat, then grips Murakami's bicep with a shaky hand, parting his lips just a bit and kissing back.

***

Yoko keeps his job at the library, since after coming back with a box full of priceless artifacts no one really cares how he spends his time or how many vacations he takes.

"Start studying Sanskrit," Murakami tells him over the phone, a few weeks after they're back. "I've got a trip planned."

"Great," Yoko says, the excitement already bubbling up inside him.


End file.
